


Better This Way

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-30
Updated: 2005-06-30
Packaged: 2018-05-31 10:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6466507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - Wesley and Gunn meet at the park to talk about their lives without Angel</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better This Way

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

Wesley pulled the swing towards him and then released, making his daughter squeal in delight. He smiled and looked up into the blue sky. It was going to be a beautiful day. Most days were beautiful here in Los Angeles as he recalled. It had been a long time though.

“Wesley! Hey, Wesley, is that you?” Someone called out. 

Wesley turned in surprise. Who still knew him on sight? It had been three years. A man rushed towards him holding a toddler. Wesley smiled. “Gunn? Charles Gunn! Oh! It’s so good to see you!” Wesley awkwardly hugged the man with the child between them.

He looked down at the blue eyed boy, grasping his tiny outstretched fingers. “Is this your son?” Wesley asked with a grin.

Gunn’s face clouded over slightly. “Well, yes, and no. Connor is mine now, legally. My wife and I, Fred, we raise him.”

Wesley looked up with a pleasant half smile. “Your wife’s name is Fred? Man or woman?”

Gunn laughed. “Woman. It was after you went back to England. Lorne, Angel, and I rescued her from another dimension called Pylea, Lorne’s home world. So, you know, we got to know each other, started dating, and we eventually got married. Best time in my whole life, you know?”

Wesley thought about his wife and children and nodded in agreement. “I wouldn’t change a thing.” His daughter wiggled on the swing and he started pushing her again. “So, you said legally. Is Connor adopted?”

Gunn bit his lip a little. “Yeah, kinda. He’s umm…Angel’s son.” He paused to watch the incredulous look cross Wesley’s face, then he shifted the boy on his hip and told Wesley the story of Darla, how she came back to Los Angeles pregnant, and how she had staked herself. “Angel was a good Dad, really good. But then he started acting weird, getting violent, drinking blood all the time. We found a prophesy, and after three different guys worked on it, they didn’t have your talent English, they figured out it said _“The Father Will Kill The Son.”_

He paused again as Wesley’s daughter tried to get out of the swing. Wesley picked her up and placed her on the ground. “Let’s play with your brother for a bit, shall we?” He guided the two year old girl over to the sandbox behind them, where a nine month old boy was cramming sand in his pants and laughing about it. Wesley smiled indulgently. “These little darlings are mine. Jane and Alex. Why not let Connor down, we can talk over here.” He said, pointing to a nearby bench with a large pram parked beside it. 

Gunn nodded, placed Connor down in the sand, and joined Wesley on the bench. “So, where was I? Oh yeah, anyway, Angel freaked out, he wouldn’t come out of his room for days, wouldn’t take care of Connor. So Fred and I did. I mean, by that time, we really loved the little guy. One night, Cordelia convinced Angel to come out of his room, play with Connor for awhile. “ Gunn looked down, folding his hands between his knees. “He bit him Wes. He bit the baby. Connor still has a tiny scar on his neck. “

Wesley’s eyebrows shot up. He looked at the boy and shook his head. “After Darla came back, I just didn’t understand Angel anymore. Maybe I never really did.” He reached his hand down and rubbed it over the scar from where he had been shot. “I guess I have this to remind me.”

Gunn was quiet a minute. “Yeah, I can’t thank you enough for that. I can’t ever thank you enough. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have Fred and Connor now. It’s too horrible to even think about.”

Wesley touched his arm lightly. “I would do it again Charles; we are still friends, even though we live an ocean apart. Tell me what happened.”

Gunn sighed deeply. “Angel left. We came back from the hospital with Connor, he was fine, but Angel was gone. He left a note saying he couldn’t take care of Connor anymore, and wanted me and Fred to raise him. Cordelia was pretty upset. She spent a lot of time trying to find him, but you know, if Angel doesn’t want to be found, you can’t find him. A few months later we closed up the Agency. Fred got a good job as a physicist in a private plastics company here in town. I take care of Connor; do a little patrolling now and then.”

Wesley chuckled. “Charles Gunn is a house husband and stay at home Dad?”

Gunn grinned. “Weird, huh? But you know what is weirder? I love it. It’s what I was looking for, my purpose, how to really contribute. Being a good Dad. “ He looked up at his son who was now imitating Alex and shoving handfuls of sand down his pants gleefully. 

Wesley leaned back on the bench. “I know exactly what you mean. Laura, my wife, and I share responsibility for the children. We have alternating schedules where we are employed so one of us is always with them. After I returned to England, I managed to secure a position as a Linguistics professor at a boys preparatory school in London. I met my wife a few days later in the quad. She teaches Art Appreciation. She was having trouble unchaining her bicycle; I helped her and she asked me out to dinner to thank me. We got married less then two months later. I guess it was meant to be. Now we have two beautiful children, a white picket fence, good jobs, everything. Life has been really kind to us.” He leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially. “We are expecting a third as well.”

Gunn clapped him on the back. “Wow, that is just…wow! Fred and I are still trying.” He shrugged. “Not that Connor doesn’t keep us plenty busy; he can be a handful.”

Wesley nodded in concurrence. “What happened to Cordelia?” He asked curiously.

“You know she had the visions, so she couldn’t have like a normal life anyway. But she tried, got some auditions. It didn’t take. Finally she was able to make a deal with a shaman named Vail, lose the visions, but in exchange she would have no memory of her life in Los Angeles. She agreed. Hell, can’t blame her, Angel was gone, Fred and I were leaving, and Angel Investigations was dead. So afterwards, she left, didn’t know me, didn’t know Fred, and didn’t know Connor. Only remembered Angel from Sunnydale. She went to New York, and became a Broadway performer. Last I heard she got a Tony for _“A Doll’s House.”_ I figure she’s better off not remembering all the crap that went down anyway.” Gunn explained.

Wesley grimaced in agreement. “I can’t say I haven’t woken up on more then one night feeling like someone was in the room, and reached for a weapon. Left over response I suppose.”

Gunn frowned. “I’ve had that same feeling too. Damn that’s strange. Guess we got the post traumatic stress or something, wanna form a support group?”

Wesley smirked. “Perhaps we should.” He looked at his watch, stood up, and stretched. “It was good to see you Charles, really it was. I would like to keep in touch, if that is alright with you and your good wife, Fred?” 

Gunn stood up too. “Yeah, I’d really like that Wes. It’s been too long. How long you gonna be in Los Angeles?”

“Another few days. Laura is showing some of her paintings at a nearby gallery. She practices what she preaches as it were, and she’s quite talented. I thought a holiday might be nice, good weather and all, so the whole family came.” Wesley said.

“Okay, cool. When I get home, I’ll talk to Fred and give you a call. Let’s all have dinner together. What do ya say?” Gunn asked.

“I’d like that, truly.” Wesley said, writing down his cell phone number on a slip of paper and handing it to Charles. “You can reach me anytime at this number. And of course, if you ever are in London, please, come and stay with us. I know Laura would love to have you.“

Gunn pocketed the number and picked up his son. “Come on Connor, time to get some lunch, see what Mommy did today to make the world a better place.”

Wesley leaned close and kissed the boy on the cheek. Angel’s son. A miracle. Bless Charles and Fred for taking him in. Connor seemed content, well adjusted. Wesley waved goodbye, and the boy waved back, giving him a mostly toothless smile. “Goodbye Charles. We’ll talk later.”

“Bye Wes, have a good afternoon.” Gunn walked through the park, Connor on his shoulders, towards the parking garage. 

Wesley watched him go. He smiled to himself, feeling a tiny pang of regret that he hadn’t been here for all that had happened. Then he realized it was better after all. Working with Angel had been killing him, an inch at a time. By now, he could easily have been dead for Angel’s cause. Instead he had a wonderful life, career, family, and home. “Are we ready, or ten more minutes, hmm?” He asked his children.

Jane looked up at him. “No go.” She said and kept digging. Alex tasted the sand on his fingers and spit in irritation that it in no way resembled vanilla pudding. 

Wesley sat back down on the bench. “Ten more minutes it is. Then we’ll go meet your Mother at the gallery. I’ll wager she sold some of her pieces, she is so gifted.“ He noted.

The sun crept higher in the sky, bees lazily buzzed by the Hyacinth bush and the happy sound of playing children filled the air.

*****

Epilogue: Under Los Angeles

Angel pulled back into the shadows. Gunn and Wesley. Damn it was nice to see them both again, even like this. And Connor! He had gotten so big! Angel assumed the other two children were Wesley’s own. He wished he could meet them. Everybody was smiling, happy, it was nice to see. He walked back to his tiny underground place and lit some candles. It was better this way. He did what he had to do. Holtz was dead. Sahjhan was contained in the urn for now. His destiny with Connor was many, many years away. This was what he was supposed to do. Hide in the shadows, help the helpless in the dead of night, and slip away quietly. Not pretend he was a person, had friends, a son, a life. He was a demon, not a man. Being alone meant he couldn’t hurt anybody. He was lonely, true. His still heart ached. But he had hope. The Shanshu. Maybe, just maybe, he could be a part of his friends’ lives again, someday. He found himself unable to really let go of them, traveling to their homes, keeping watch over them, making sure they were safe. Los Angeles, London, New York, Sunnydale. Then back to his hovel to reflect and try to find some solace. He sat on the small cot and picked up the teddy bear lying there. It was the only thing he had taken when he had left. It still smelled faintly of Connor when he was a baby. Angel held it close, remembered the laughter and joy he heard at the park, and was sure he was doing the right thing.


End file.
